


love letters

by superbrokul



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anyways, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Letters, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, and don't worry, but lance has to move to france for a year, but then he comes back, first two or three are Lance-in-France chapters, keith and lance are friends since kindergarten, so it's okay there's a lot of gay shit, they write to each other cause they're romantic like that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superbrokul/pseuds/superbrokul
Summary: Keith and Lance are best friends since kindergarten. They know each other better than they know themselves. They have their habits, like the one with always buying socks together and then sharing each pair. Or, after Lance moves to France for their final year of high school, with writing letters. And one day, that sweet little habit happens to change everything.Will it be the end of the 15 years of friendship?The beginning?Or both?





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> This is my first fanfic so ;;; hope u like it I guess!  
> if u see any mistakes plz let me know!  
> aaand okay it is just a prologue, after that the action gets more dynamic I guess I just had to give u kind of a background??  
> Enjoy!

World seems to be built from chaos and order, complimenting each other, intertwined, one always leading to another if we dig deep enough. Things happening in our lives are unpredictable and random and from that mess seems to emerge some constant, a sequence of events that keeps repeating, a routine that we cling to, looking for peace and stability. Through 15 years of friendship, Keith and Lance have always found that steadiness in little rituals. Like the one with making collages together every time one of them had a chaos in their head and needed to put their mind at ease. Or how they would always buy socks together and share each pair, mixing and matching different ones, Lance always finding a perfect fit for his outfit, and Keith just picking whatever he felt like that day. In many ways, each one differently, both of them complimented each other just like order and chaos, creating their small universe, a refuge for them whenever they did not like the real world. They have always found asylum in each other’s company and no matter how far they were, physically or mentally, their bond never broke. Even after Keith’s parents died and he wouldn’t go to school or talk to anyone, even when Lance moved to France in High School when his grandmother fell ill and he had to help her. As they never needed a 24/7 contact anyways, it hadn’t really affected their friendship as much as it would seem. Since the beginning, they have existed around each other naturally, with no need to talk. They would be just fine sitting next to each other, doing their things in silence or meeting after a week or two of exchanging only a few words and then staying up all night, talking passionately about whatever came to their mind. Sometimes Keith would wake up at 3 am to pebbles or pine cones hitting his window, because Lance just had an excellent idea and there was no way he could keep it ‘till the next day. Other times Keith would experience that kind of epiphany too and write a six-page front-and-back letters that Lance received the next morning. Lance would then read thoroughly, sometimes making a note or a sketch at the margin, and then go to Keith’s to talk it through over hot chocolate or pizza.

That is probably where Lance got the idea of letting Keith know about him moving to France in a letter.

When his ma told him that he had to go, he took the news calmly. Family was always one of the most important things to him, and so when he heard about his grandma’s hip surgery, he was only worried about her health. He was aware that it meant leaving his parents and friends for a full year and transferring to a French _lyce_ _é_ in the final year of high school. It worried him a little, obviously, but he figured in XXIst century there will be no problem in contacting his friends, and he could visit at holidays, so although he will miss them A LOT, it would be manageable and not so terrible after all. He knew that Keith would understand, but he also knew how much they’d miss each other. He tried to tell him several times, but the second he opened his mouth only a senseless babble about a new movie or random animal facts came out. So after a few unsuccessful attempts, finally came a realization, a flash of memory, like the slightest touch of paper on the tips of his fingers, a sound of flipping _a letter._

By the time the word fully formed in his brain, he had already hurried to his room, threw himself on the chair almost tripping over his own legs and started writing.

The letter turned out to be a lot shorter and more chaotic than Keith’s, but Lance was still proud of himself. And the next day, after watching a movie at Keith’s, he left the letter on his desk before heading home. 20 minutes later Keith was sitting next to him on a swing in Lance’s backyard, gently nudging him with his shoulder. The sun was setting with a warm late-summer breeze that tickled their skin and reminded them about the inevitable end of holidays. The realization that in near future Lance were not going to be sitting there felt like a reverse memory. For a second Keith felt like a future Keith, sitting in the very same spot alone, thinking about the Keith from now, having Lance by his side. He could almost grasp that feeling, the absence of Lance. A void in the place that was occupied so vividly for 15 years that it blended in with Keith’s picture of the world. Since they met, there never was such a thing as a lack of Lance. He’s just always been in the picture. At the edge of his consciousness, there was constantly a Lance-occupied spot, a ghost of his presence. To the point where it became natural. Where he was just somehow always aware of Lance’s existence somewhere near him. Falling asleep knowing that Lance is doing his homework; taking a shower knowing that Lance is still sleeping; looking for dinosaur documentaries to watch because it’s his turn in choosing and knowing Lance is in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his long legs intertwined in that ridiculous way, waiting for the popcorn; sitting on his bike heading for some party to pick Lance up, knowing that he is most likely making out with somebody, even more likely drunk, and certainly staying at Keith’s that night.

There was a silence, not an uncomfortable one. In that silence they exchanged way more feelings than in the few words that broke it after a while. There was reassurance, promise and resignation. It was soothing and after the exchange, they looked at each other and smiled.

Because even though without Lance Keith would have to stop carrying that second helmet around with him, even though he wouldn’t need the additional set of pillows in his bed, even though he would _miss him_ so much, Keith received a promise; one that said: there will be no void, no lack of presence, I am going to be there still, just a bit further for some time, but, buddy, Keith, my man, we’ve been friends for so long that this minor inconvenience is nothing and we have phones and internet and we can basically sit next to each other even across the ocean and no I won’t find better friends Keith are you kidding me…

“So when are you leaving?” he said, because how the fuck could Lance be so loud and obnoxious even without actually talking??

“In a week I think. You know, summer ends and I need some time to, like, transfer?” Lance looked puzzled at the end, brows furrowed and lips slightly parted. He looked up at Keith as he laughed.

“Do you even know what to do? God, I hope somebody helps you with the paperwork”.

At that, Lance lifted his brows and gazed at him, melodramatically offended.

“Says emo princess who’s signature dish is cereal!”

“Wh-.. How is it even related to your paperwork?”

Keith could never quite manage to pull off that soap opera thing, so he kept laughing all the time. He had to give it to Lance, the boy could _act._

But he didn’t respond to that, instead gently nudging Keith’s knee with his. There was a moment of silence again, a comforting one. In the silence, two pairs of eyes meeting the ground, two small smiles and two arms brushing against each other.

“You need to promise me something before you go” it was quiet and soft.

“Yeah?” shy, quiet and a almost a little damp.

“Please don’t get anyone pregnant, Lance”.

And then there’s a laugh and a push and a Keith on the ground.

“And what if I decide to start a family, mullet? Will you stand in my way of happiness?” said Lance, once again raising his eyebrows theatrically.

“I’ll miss you”.

It was partly an answer, but mostly just a statement. Something that they both knew and there was no need to say but when it had actually been said, it meant just that and much more than that. And because of Keith’s cracking voice, because of the sudden dampness around their faces and because of the two crooked smiles, it turned out to be simply the only thing that needed to be said.

There was a long hug. There were steps. A bit heavy, a bit slow. And there might have been a sheen on some cheeks, but the sun had already set and it was too dark to tell.

Whether the eyes were looking up at the pretty night sky or not, nobody knows.

Whether the sudden dampness in the atmosphere was just dew or something else, that’s a mystery.

Certainly, somewhere in the dark there was a swing on the backyard. It was going to be a relatively long time before two particular figures swing at it again. It had been standing there intact for 15 years, though. What could possibly change in that particular year what hadn’t changed in the previous? The swing wouldn’t even notice before that time had passed.

But, obviously, it’s just a swing. They don’t notice anything.

That is what they have in common with suitcases.

Plane tickets.

Bikes that drive back a little lighter.

And maybe lost tears, already soaked in the soft material inside the helmet or, let’s say, a sleeve pressed to an airplane’s window.

And words.

_I’ll miss you._


	2. nirvana with ink and paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith renews old traditions and everything's very soft.

It’s been two months since Lance’s departure.  
Despite the uncomfortably quiet classrooms and weird sensation of not hearing Lance’s name on the list, the school is decent. He is not alone in there after all. There are Pidge and Hunk, his and Lance’s friends since freshmen year. And he has quickly started to notice the benefits of Lance’s absence, mainly concerning the size of his wallet- for instance, he doesn’t have to double every snack he buys; he’s also finally able to prepare reasonable amount of lunch, not the usual 6 servings, from which Lance devoured 5.  
Well, to be honest, he’s never told Lance that the excess food is intentional. He just kind of happened to start making it extra after he’s realized Lance will never reduce his beauty sleep even by 15 minutes in order to have the time for breakfast. In fact, Keith didn’t actually mind doing that either…  
But, hey, always look at the positives, right?  
School takes up majority of Keith’s time, the rest distributed between hanging out with Pidge and Hunk, watching dinosaur movies, riding and repairing his bike, painting and occasional diners with his brother Shiro and Matt, his boyfriend.  
The days go by like that, Keith refusing to let his mind wonder too far, let’s say, to France. It happens sometimes, nonetheless.  
Instead of pebbles at the window, there’s a sudden video call every few days. Lance rambles about French school, French croissants, French parties, French boys and French girls. Sometimes they chat while Lance is getting ready for a party. They always pick his outfits together, even though Lance throws insults at Keith’s terrible taste in style faster than he breathes. Other times, Keith paints and Lance does his makeup, asking Keith about the colors he should use. Keith always says he looks incredible with violet brows, and Lance always laughs and calls him boring, but uses the violet pomade anyways.  
And maybe Keith stares, just a little, at his precise movements and slightly parted lips as he focuses. Lance sometimes catches his glare and gives him the signature wink-and-grin, to which Keith responds by shaking his head with raised eyebrows and maybe just the smallest smirk.

 

“Get ready for a storytime, mullet”.  
It’s 3 am and the ringtone violently wakes him up from an accidental yet sweet nap he took while watching space documentaries.  
“Were you sleeping? You’re so lame, wow” Lance’s average speed of shooting out words is severely high but it never affects the clarity of his speech. When he’s drunk, however, the speed doesn’t change; the clarity does.  
“Let me guess. Made out with some French beauty, puked at her and fled the party before she sobered up enough to actually see your face”.  
“Wow, boring. Think of a new joke, that was two weeks ago and stopped being funny after, like, two days”.  
“That storytime better be good enough to make a new joke, cause not much happened since then, sharpshooter”.  
At that, Lance giggles.  
“Okay, that one’s actually good, I see somebody finally woke up. Now listen, because it is not good, it is marvelous”.  
He manages to pull out an impressively accurate british accent at the last word and Keith smiles at the reference. He’s not that drunk if he could do that.  
“All ears”.  
“Alright. Remember that hot French model with long white hair? Once I showed you his photo because he had the most beautiful highlight I’ve ever seen, the blue one”.  
“Oh, that Lotor guy?”  
“Yes! Okay, so, he’s hot. And, I mean- H O T, Keith. I can tell you just how much, because guess who’s been at Allura’s party?”  
Keith lifts his brows slightly in surprise. Lance laughs and winks at him.  
“Yeah, I know. But it gets better. So, he came like an hour late, obviously, and said he had some photoshoot or something like that. I didn’t notice him at first because, well, I’ve been kinda busy…”  
Keith chuckles.  
“Lance, you’re a slut”  
“Shut up, I’m just bi”  
“…phobic?”  
“That was a joke, mullet. And this time it’s not what you think. Well, maybe partly. Now listen! So first he comes up to Allura to say hi, they talk for a few minutes and then the girl I’ve been talking to- and I swear I’d most definitely tell you if it’d been something more, but actually she’s pretty gay and crushing on Allura I think and that’s, well, understandable. Her name’s Nyma and she complimented my brows, a big fat thank you for that by the way, and then we started talking about makeup and school and probably Allura at some point, but then somebody set up beer pong and she said she couldn’t miss it but gave me her number and left. I think she won, but… Oh, right! Back to Lotor. After Nyma left, I went up to Allura to ask where’s the bathroom. And so I say Allura, hi- and she turns to me, giggling, and then I see Lotor next to her. He literally stops mid-sentence, eyes me up and down and fucking smirks. I swear to God. And so I smile back and Allura notices me and gives me a hug- I think she was pretty drunk at that point- and then she introduces us. And, okay, let me just. He has a dark red button up over a black turtleneck and black cargo pants with chains and his hair looks exactly as flawless as on the pictures, and he looks even fucking hotter and he wears that stunning blue highlighter and I’m. Hyperventilating. Oh boy, alright. So then he winks at me and Allura says that she has to go check how everyone’s doing but now that I’m here, I can take care of Lotor as he doesn’t really know anybody here. And just like that she’s gone. So I ask him if he wants a drink and he nods and follows me to the kitchen, smiling all the time. And then I pour us some drinks and he sits on the counter so we just kind of stay there in the kitchen. We start talking and he has a slight French accent, but he actually speaks English very well as his mother grew up in England, and to be honest that accent is just plain hot. As it turns out, his nerd level is comparable to yours, but he also likes make up and fashion and he is weirdly passionate about lizards? I actually think you’d get along well. But yeah, we talk and drink and then maybe drink a bit more and then somebody opens the door and shouts je les ai trouvé, and I almost guess what it means but the past tenses are kinda tricky and well it means I found them because it turns out we’ve been gone for nearly two hours and Allura was slightly worried. So then we leave the kitchen, as you might guess ever so slightly drunk and then when I move I suddenly recall that I wanted to go to the bathroom two hours ago. I walk up to Allura and ask her where’s the bathroom but before she manages to answer I hear Lotor say he can show me where it is.”  
Here Lance pauses for a better effect.  
“No fucking way” says Keith, laughing. “Lance I know you’re sweet but I bet it took a few of my dinosaur facts, too. It couldn’t have been just your charm”.  
“Alright, I admit it, there has been a few dinosaur facts, thank you for that again. But now you listen very carefully, because we’ve come to the best part”.  
He pauses again and Keith nods, not even trying to hide his proud smile.  
“I’m pretty sure I died there for a second. But then I wink and show my best smile and say after you. And I can’t even remember walking or climbing the stairs or actually entering the bathroom because HE PINNED ME TO THE WALL and kissed me!?”  
A shy smile crawls onto Lance’s lips and…  
“Oh my g- Lance, you’re blushing!” Keith bursts out laughing.  
“I’m wh- absolutely not!” Lance exclaims, but still checks himself in the mirror. Keith doesn’t miss the slightly surprised expression fleeting through his face for a mere second.  
“Absolutely yes, sir! Lance has a crush, Lance has a cru-“ Keith sings, giggling.  
“Shut up, mullet, I don’t do crushes”.  
“So how come you’re still blushing?”  
“What, do you have some kind of a night vision or what, emo princess? What you see as a blush is merely my natural glow. Not my problem you can’t spot a radiant and rich complexion when you see one. You are severely mistaken and it is beyond my belief that you could even say such a thing. The guy I called my best friend! I’ve never felt so betrayed in my entire life!” Lance finishes the monologue with a dramatic expression, eyes closed, brows furrowed and a hand over his lips. Keith applauds. Lance holds the pose for two more seconds before relaxing and bowing, frown turning into a wide grin.  
“Wow, beautiful. Love makes you a better actor”.  
“So instead of being proud of your friend for seducing a 10/10 French model, you decide to spoil everything with you bitterness? Rude. And boring”.  
Keith winks and smiles back.  
“I am undeniably and unconditionally proud of you, Lance. I’ve always believed in your irresistible charm. And I totally ship it…”  
Lance quits his act and laughs.  
“We’d make cute babies, right? But I still don’t do crushes. Anyways, that’s the update on your number one favorite slut’s adventures in France. Besides that, Grandma is feeling better and the doctor says everything’s going very well. I’m trying to convince her not to strain herself, but she refuses to take my help, walks everywhere on her own even though I know how painful it is with her hip still not fully healed, and she even started cooking! I swear sometimes I come back from school and she sits on the couch, smiling proudly, dinner on the table. It doesn’t happen very often, only on the better days, but nothing can stop that lady. So stubborn!”  
A fond smile wanders around his lips when he talks about her, but Keith knows he’s also very worried.  
“Guess the stubbornness runs in the family then” Keith responds softly with a little smile. He wishes he could say something to encourage Lance. He knows that Lance always worries about his loved ones, maybe a little too much. And he knows that if they were to switch places, Lance would find just the right words. But Keith had never been good with words and emotions. And even though Keith knows that Lance is aware of that and has learned to read Keith perfectly so that he doesn’t need to say anything more and Lance still gets the message, Keith still sometimes wishes he were better at this.  
But then, obviously, Lance knows exactly what Keith means. His smile widens, eyes brighten and Keith knows he half calms down, half pushes the worries away for a moment, just for the sake of giving Keith all his attention. And Keith knows exactly what comes now.  
“I know you can’t possibly get enough of me, but- enough about me, for now. How are you doing, emo princess? I’ve heard you’re making some particularly shitty excuses for going out even though you know Hunk’s way too kind to drag you out and has forced Pidge into promising she too won’t disrespect your will. Oh, and don’t you dare answer it’s nothing or I swear I’m going to tell Veronica to change your locks and throw you out every Friday”.

There goes the “a little too much” worrying.  
“I’m doing well, thank you. If it weren’t for your 3 am calls, I’d even get enough sleep. And I am very much offended, my excuses are not that shitty”.  
“They’re so bad I literally reconsidered our friendship for a second. And you’d think a painter should be somewhat creative”.  
“Now that’s rude. And you mistake creativity for being a good liar”.  
“Do not disrespect the art of bending the reality to suit one’s liking in my presence, thank you”.  
As Keith opens his mouth to answer, there’s a faint call in the background.  
“Gotta go, Grandma needs help. But we’re not done, princess. Oh, and… sorry for waking you up, I forgot about the time difference again. Goodnight, call me when you wake up!”  
“Have a nice day, bye!” Keith responds, a mixture of yawn and smile on his face as Lance blows him a kiss and hangs up.  
Keith closes the laptop laying next to him and puts it on the floor. He then lays down and, with a soft smile on his lips, falls asleep, the grip on his phone loosening, yet not letting go completely.

~

Yet again Keith is awakened by a call, this time around 9 am.  
“Hm?” he mutters, untangling himself from the sheets.  
“Hi, buddy!” his lips curl into a smile when he hears the warm, familiar voice.  
“Hi, Hunk. What’s up?”  
“Well, me and Pidge were planning on going to the movies and… maybe you’d like to come with us? I can even make something for dinner. And a dessert, if that helps..”  
Keith can’t help but laugh, partly because that’s just such a Hunk thing to do, trying to convince him with a dessert, and partly to silence the guilt he starts to feel at the sound of not-so-well-hidden concern in his friend’s voice. Yet again, Keith wishes he could say more. He wants to say-  
Hunk please don’t worry about me. Please don’t think it’s your fault and that you’re not doing enough or that I don’t like your company! I really want to hang out with you but I get kinda anxious in public sometimes and I’m not a big fan of crowds and I know you’re trying your best and if you only knew that you wouldn’t ask me to go to concerts and shit but I just! Well, can’t bring myself to say it out loud. And without Lance, so familiar and so loud and obnoxious, I have no anchor and it’s harder to do those things. And here I go again, talking to myself instead of just saying it out loud. Amazing, Keith.  
“Well, can’t say no to your dessert, can I?” he says instead.  
“Yes!” Keith almost hears his hand being triumphantly thrown into the air. “We’ll come to pick you up. See you at 12!”  
Then he hangs up, and Keith rolls his eyes and groans.  
“Well done, Keith, well done” he says to himself on his way to the kitchen.  
How am I, Lance? Well, I’m fine, believe me, I just wish I could be able to actually say what I mean. How do you even do that?  
As Keith opens the cabinet’s door and reaches for coffee, suddenly a realization hits him.  
He might not be able to say what he means, but he is very much able to write it.  
He forgets about coffee and goes back to his bedroom, grabs a sheet and a pen and sits on the edge of his chair.  
He glares at the paper for a second, then lifts his hand and starts writing. It feels just like he is a boy all over again, passionately writing to Lance about the new dinosaur documentary he’s just watched. And, for no apparent reason, he doesn’t just write down his thoughts. More subconsciously than not, the lines on the paper form the words-  
Dear Lance,  
and Keith stares at them for another second, amazed, before realizing that it’s okay. It feels right.  
He’s always written letters to Lance. What Lance doesn’t know is that he’s never seen all of them. Keith just wrote letters like others wrote diaries, it was frankly easier for him to write when it was directed at Lance, doesn’t matter if he were to ever read it or not.  
Three pages later, Keith lifts his hand and smiles. He feels so light, as if all the thoughts from the past few months have finally left him.  
The letter is folded and put aside, on the, what is soon to be, unsend pile. Then, second time this day, Keith feels a lightbulb shine over his head. He grabs the pen and a new sheet once again and writes an abridged version of the letter. While looking for an envelope, he wonders what is Lance’s expression going to be like when he reads the letter. Is he going to be surprised? Or maybe read it with that soft little smile that he usually doesn’t wear around people, but that Keith was always allowed to see.  
As he’s about to close the envelope, he notices his latest painting and decides to throw that in.  
Then he closes it. For good.  
Eyes closed, he breathes deeply. As the eyes open, a wide grin appears below them. Keith almost shrieks with relief.

~

“Hey, I’ve been ordered to call you?”  
“Hi, princess, how come you’re already up? Isn’t it like 10 am there?”  
“Yeah, I’m going out with Hunk and Pidge. I was promised a dessert” Keith says softly and Lance just gets all the hidden meanings. He smiles, very softly, so softly it almost smears at the edges.  
“Can’t say no to Hunk’s dessert, can you?”  
Two pairs of shining eyes, two fond smiles and two soft laughs, intertwining so that they almost feel as one. And, above it all, a feeling of lightness. Of a sudden relief, so overwhelming they both almost melt in it.  
It’s been two months since Lance’s departure.  
And, for the first time, it’s genuinely okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally the only time I write anything is 3 am so sorry if it doesn't make sense (but I hope it does!!!)  
> I hope you have a lovely day! (or night, but I'd rather not take away ur precious sleep ;; )


	3. Malbouffe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to lots and lots of realisations.

Lance has always adored the precious little habits they have developed throughout many years of friendship. Especially the letters, there’s a very special place in his heart for those. Receiving the first letter in so many months feels very warm in his chest and slightly nostalgic in his mind. He carefully opens the envelope and brushes his fingers through the beautiful sea painting. His lips curve into a fond smile as he puts it away. He holds his breath while unfolding the letter. The smile becomes even softer and fonder at the sight of familiar handwriting. He reads each word carefully, following every curve and every line on the page. Then he reads it again. Still smiling, he gently lifts the painting and examines it with similar attentiveness.

The smile stays on his lips as he falls asleep, images of careful brush strokes in various shades of blue and green moving before his eyes, their final effect hanging on the wall over his head.

~

Besides the calls, now there are letters. Warmth in Lance’s chest as he holds in his hands the beautiful paintings, smile on his lips as he glances at the growing collection on the wall before falling asleep. Days go by, school, calls, parties, space documentaries watched together on the weekends, videochatting, meeting Lotor, Allura and Nyma, seeing grandma get better. Letters. Paintings. His own replies, vastly decorated with sketches of movie characters, animals and Keith’s mullet.

Lance hardly notices when it’s already been 8 months.

~

Lance is tired of chasing after the dolphins, so he slows down and moves slowly, curiously looking at the beautiful neon fishes and vibrant corals around him. He’s watching a small, orange fish with black and white stripes as it peeks from behind a pale-green algae, when something nudges at his back. He turns to face it and looks straight into deep violet eyes. _Very pretty_ eyes. Lance notices a faint sound coming from the dolphin’s mouth. He manages to think- _Do dolphins have eyes like that? More importantly, can they sing? And most importantly, can they sing that.._

..when he wakes up, diving under the bed to pick up the phone.

Dolphins might be able to sing, but most likely not a 2008 metalcore that he’s set as Keith’s ringtone long ago as a joke.

Lance grabs the phone and lifts it to his cheek, heart pounding.

“Princess, it’s 4 am here, remember that?” he says nervously.

“Could you talk to me?” he answers. Voice a bit too quiet, breath a bit too loud. But there’s a ghost of a chuckle, almost unnoticeable.

Lance sighs with relief. _That’s not too bad._ He stands up and leaves the bedroom, briefly glancing at sleeping Lotor over his arm.

“..and Allura almost choked at her drink and ended up spitting it on Nyma after hearing the waitress’s “and what will the lady have?” directed at Lotor. I winked at her and said “flat white, as always. See how well I know you, babe?”. Allura literally teared up and Nyma tried really hard not to but as soon as the poor waitress left, she whizzed like a kettle. I’m pretty sure if Lotor were to hold it in for another second, his nose would bleed, but I played it really cool, as always” Lance babbles, closing the balcony door behind him.

Keith bursts out laughing, the tension gone from his voice.

“I’m sure you did, as always” he manages to say before another burst. Lance chuckles.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, thank you.. Uhm, I.. I’ve sold some old t-shirt online and when the guy gave me his address, I went to the closet to look for it. And I was 100% sure it was in the second drawer but couldn’t find it. So then I started stressing out about it, threw everything out of the drawer, still couldn’t find it, repeated with the remaining two and then started stressing out really fucking bad. And I obviously knew that it wouldn’t even be such a problem, I would just send the cash back. But then I almost fainted and finally found it in Shiro’s cabinet, where I randomly put it few months ago because I was too lazy to clean mine and there was no space left. So then I sat on my bed and laughed, still trembling. And now I have a big fat mess on the floor but I’m afraid I’ll faint if I stand up. So, there’s that.”

Now Lance whizzes like a kettle, hand over his mouth and tears in his eyes.

“Oh my god, Keith. I think I pissed myself”.

“Yeah, me too” says Keith, now laughing along with Lance.

“I don’t even know what to say. A breakdown over a Bring Me The Horizon shirt”.

“Uhm, excuse you, I only break down for My Chemical Romance”.

Lance tries even harder to hold the laughter, warm feeling of relief rushing through his body.

“Haven’t been that emo for Gerard for a long time. Feels refreshing. Anyways, guess I’ll have to clean that up”.

“Have a good time, emo princess. And don’t pass out”.

“Thank you, Lance”.

“No problem. Oh, and you better say goodbye to Gerard and the others, because I sure as hell am going to go through your stuff when I’m back. Your closet is like an antique store, and you only wear 5 shirts. That I got you”. Keith chuckles. “See you soon Gerard!!” he adds, a little louder, before hanging up.

He sighs, little smile wandering around his lips as he enters the bedroom.

He meets Lotor’s eyes. The boy is laying shirtless, head resting on his arms and a crooked smile on his lips.

“You’re so cute”.

“Runs in my blood, but thanks for appreciation”.

Lotor chuckles.

“The two of you together. I’ve never met Keith, but I believe he’s incredible. Someone who makes you this soft has to be”.

Lance stops and stares at him for a second, lips parted in surprise. Many thoughts and even more question marks run through his mind in that second, but then he scoffs and sits on the bed cross-legged.

“ _Soft?_ I’m always soft. I spend a lot on moisturizers, I’d better be. But, yeah. He is incredible”. Lance notices his smile is _a bit too fond_ and quickly replaces it with the usual wide grin. “Anyways, I don’t know what you mean”.

There’s a sparkle in Lotor’s eyes as he laughs.

“Lance, I pay attention. I’ve seen you talk with lots of people. There’s a slight change in your posture and mimic when you talk to certain individuals. You’re more relaxed, your eyes seem more soft, almost damp. And you have that sweet, fond smile reserved only for a few. Those being, your family..”

Lance smiles brighter. _Of course, he loves them the most in…_

“… and Keith.”

Now Lance freezes again.

He thinks about the beautiful French boy sitting in front of him. The way he talks, picking every word attentively and precisely. The way his shoulders shake when he laughs and his eyes brighten up at the mention of lizards. His incredible hair and high cheekbones and-

Everything about him rings Lance’s bell and would be just perfect, if only..

_If only there wasn’t someone perfect for him already._

Lance pushes the thought away, even if it doesn’t necessarily bother him. It’s like a warm breeze, something familiar, constant, always floating through his mind in different forms. And that might be just the reason he has learnt to push it away- because he knows it’s not the right time yet. It will always be there, like a promise. Not yet, but some time. For sure.

“Guess now we know why I don’t do crushes, eh?” Lance replies, scratching the back of his head and laughing. “Well, I’d never think anyone would notice. You really are a curious one, Lotor”.

The boy laughs in that sweet, arm-shaking way. What surprises Lance even more, he doesn’t seem bothered at all.

“I noticed _something_ the first time we have talked, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. It comes to you naturally, so I don’t think you’re aware of that, but Keith is a pretty common theme when you talk. And the slight change in your expression then, hm. It’s adorable” Lotor laughs softly. “Oh, don’t look so puzzled. Why did I continue flirting with you, then? Honestly, you’re also incredible, Lance, and I have fun with you. I never wanted it to become more serious, just as you. To be fair I, too, have _a Keith._ A bit different situation, but essentially, we’re very similar, you and I. And so I knew we could have fun without any harm. But today, overhearing your conversation, I started wondering if you are aware of _your Keith_ ”.

Lance nods and smiles.

“I see. You’re very observant, huh. To be honest, I think I’ve always been aware, to some extent. The thing is, I don’t want to name it, yet. Or go to deep, overthink it. It doesn’t bother me, I just want it to happen- or not- naturally. I believe that you cannot force the important things, because then they’re spoilt. And I would never let it spoil”.

“You are very considerate, huh. I agree with you wholeheartedly. Thank you for the conversation, Lance”.

They both smile knowingly, as if in that moment some bond is created. A new friendship. Lance appreciates it very much. Surprisingly he feels lighter, finally having admitted that out loud.

“To you too. Really. But now, we can have a bit more fun, can’t we?”

“Goes without saying” as Lotor pulls him for a kiss, Lance smiles.

Smiles at the moment of pure, casual fun, with no deeper feelings and strings attached.

 _It’s a promise. Not yet. But some time, for sure_.

 

~

_Dear Lance,_

_Do you remember my 13 th birthday? I think about them from time to time. It was when some girl from school tried to kiss me and I panicked and pulled away. She started making a scene and I didn’t know what to do. Then, you came up to me from nowhere, wrapped your arm around me, pulled me close and kissed me. Just like that, in front of all the kids. It was soft and warm and then you smiled so brightly, looked at the girl and said “Well, what are you doing with my emo princess?”. That was when you started calling me that. I guess you just couldn’t resist turning it into a bit of a joke. And yet I didn’t mind, not at all. And you were so casual, not hesitating, not making it awkward for even a moment. You just looked around, smiling, and walked away, holding my hand. You did not let go until we were in the bathroom, alone, and you made sure I’m okay and not going to break down or something like that. And, to be honest, I could never thank you enough for that. I could never thank you enough for all the things you’ve done, are doing and will do. _

_I wonder what were you feeling? Were you ever really aware just how important that was? Because, in that moment, I felt the anxiety taking over. I could almost hear all the kids laughing at me, whispering “what’s wrong with him? Everyone would like to be at his place..”. It was quite silly, probably not a big deal. The kids would just laugh for a few days and then forget. But at the time when everything could trigger me, the few days of being picked at did seem like a big deal. Then you, with your smiles, jokes and kind words, liked by everyone, you kissed the weird anxious kid at the school’s backyard. Even though she was the prettiest girl in the school. Even though you liked her. And then you never explained it to anyone. Never tried to deny the gossip or turn it into a joke. Never let anyone think it wasn’t serious, never let anyone laugh at me._

_It feels weird saying all that. Surprisingly, it’s easier for me to express my feelings when I address you, even though I won’t let you read this. Do you think it’s weird? The fact that I find it easier to talk to you than to myself?_

_For some reason, I don’t. Well, maybe the reason being your unawareness. And maybe your kind, easy-going nature._

_I think about it a lot. How do you do that? Why do you always feel like home? I believe you’ve never even noticed the effect you have on your surroundings. You always carry that warm breeze within yourself. Anywhere you go, you fill the space around you with an atmosphere of relief. When you enter the room, it’s almost as if you were patting everyone at the back and whispering “whatever you’re going through, it is going to be okay, trust me”. And it’s so easy to trust you, Lance. What’s important, you never betray that trust. In society, you always laugh and smile at everybody, loud and lovely. The thing I admire the most, though, is your authenticity. Whatever you do, it’s never fake. I don’t believe you could ever bring yourself to do anything false. Even when you’re sad sometimes, even when you worry, it shows in your expression when one looks closely. You were never good at hiding it, or rather you were never trying to, at least from me. But your smile never quite fades, because you can never really be sad, can you? You are the most unapologetic optimist I know. The most genuine, too. Even though you always make the jokes about how pretty and amazing you are, you are never truly aware how much good you bring upon everyone, just by existing in that very form, just by looking at the world from behind that fan of dark-brown, long lashes, just by speaking in that smooth, soft voice. Once when we were high you laughed and I imagined all the atoms surrounding your body laughing alongside with you in high-pitched, excited voices. That is probably the best explanation I can give of the overall Lanceness._

_I still don’t know how come that around you I feel more casual than when I’m alone. That, I can’t explain._

_I’ve also never quite understood why did you choose me to be your best friend, even though you literally had to babysit me throughout most of the school. And, sometimes, you still do._

_After all, I just hope one day I will find the right words to tell you how grateful I am for being your friend. I still believe being your best friend is my greatest accomplishment._

_There is one dream that I keep dreaming. It’s in the depths of the ocean, I am running away, but I can’t see what’s chasing me. Frankly, I can’t see anything, it’s too dark. I somehow keep avoiding any obstacles in the very last second, but I know there’s soon to be one I won’t manage to dodge. I’m getting more and more tired and I don’t want to give up, even though it crosses my mind that I can’t keep running forever, that it’s pointless, as I’ll eventually end up being caught anyways. And I know that it’s completely no use in running, that the thing behind me gets faster every second and is far stronger than me. And I’m not sure if it’s because of the fear or is it my last act of defiance, or do I have remains of hope still left, but I keep running despite all that. After what feels like forever, I finally surpass my limit. I can’t go any further, but I also can’t give up. I make my last, desperate move and in that very moment, something grabs my arm and pulls me strongly. The grasp is firm, but soft and warm and I hold onto it, shutting my eyes so tight that is hurts and  barely breathing. I’m pulled into some hideout, and my predator passes by. I can feel the fear and despair surrounding it, but after a few moments, it starts disappearing, almost dissolving into water. I slowly open my eyes and the first thing I notice is that the ocean is not so dark anymore. The second thing are two strong arms holding me and two big ocean-blue eyes, looking at me with a little concern, but mostly relief. I get dragged into those eyes and I drown in them, slowly, but it’s not scary anymore. I close my eyes again, but this time I feel calm and warm and it feels right._

_I think it’s only fair not to put the interpretation into words. It’s better left unspoken. But I just wanted you to know, to see it for yourself. Leave it open._

_If I only might add something, I’d like to say- it feels right. All the feelings, I can relate to, but what always stays with me when I wake up and what’s always the strongest is the calm, the safety and the certainty that it is right._

_Keith_

 

Keith lifts the pen and stares at the paper, eyes slightly damp. Writing helps him sort out his feelings, and this time he thinks he almost grasped that feeling of _katharsis_ he’s learnt about in English class.

He breathes in and out, slowly, while folding the letter. He is about to open the drawer for the “unsend” ones, when the doorbell rings.

He jumps and swipes the letter to the side before rushing to open the door.

When he gets back, fresh pizza on hand, he forgets all about the unsend pile. He takes another piece of paper and writes an actual, less diary-like reply. He folds the paper, once again, and eats a slice of pizza before sliding a new painting and the letter into an envelope.

He then opens the drawer and adds the other letter to the pile. As he closes it, he also forgets about them. He grabs the remaining pizza and moves to sit on his bed, already thinking about the movie he is going to watch.

Katharsis, after all, is a much longer process. And it has only started.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so cheesy, I know. But it's the boys' fault!!  
> And yeah, Lance stole Keith's first kiss (;;;;


End file.
